


Melt

by toesohnoes



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon and Robb go south together. Jon can't handle the heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melt

**Author's Note:**

> Written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/18615713820/jon-has-never-known-heat-or-sunlight-like-this-in).

Jon has never known heat or sunlight like this. In the North, the whole world is a frozen cube. Life consists of a constant struggle to keep warm. A person moves from fireside to fireside, shivering all the way,and a thick coat and fur is the height of luxury.

Here in the South, it’s more different than he could have imagined. The heat invades like a stealthy warrior. It clogs the air in his lungs and leaves a shimmer of sweat on Jon’s skin. It’s as if he’s been battling for hours, even though he is only sitting out in the sun.

He has taken a position at the top of a coastal cliff, where he can see the waves crashing far below. His legs hang over the cliff edge and his bare feet dangle dangerously in mid-air. In this high-class court, it’s the only risk he can get.

He has peeled away the layers of his shirts, even if the exposure of his pale skin to the open air and sun leaves him feeling dangerously unprotected.

“You could blind a person with that skin of yours,” Robb says, approaching him from behind.

Jon watches him close the distance between them. Robb crouches down to reach his level, but he doesn’t hang over the cliff edge. He’s always been safer than Jon; he’s always had to be.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Someone more important than me to talk to, I mean.” Jon doesn’t mean to sound sullen. Intention doesn’t change the fact.

“I’m the king of the North. I can talk to whoever I want to talk to,” Robb challenges. There’s a slip of arrogant confidence in his eyes - it worries Jon. Always will. “But right now I need you to head back inside with me. I need your ears.”

Jon knows how to stand in the background: he knows how to listen and he knows how to watch. He’s a bastard. He’s used to not being seen.

He gets up and Robb passes him his shirt. Robb even helps him to pull it on, his hands lingering in places where they shouldn’t. Jon would tell him to be careful, but there’s little point. Cersei will spread rumours no matter what they do. Whether it’s a truth or a lie, it’s irrelevent.

He follows Robb back to the castle when he’s ready. With all of his clothes back on, the heat presses in oppressively. He’s a Snow from the North, but the sun is beating down on him. He’s starting to forget what it means to be cold.


End file.
